M7Rocks!: Coming Together
by Lissa Grinstead
Summary: This is the 2nd story in the M7Rocks! AU; however, it details how the group came together.


**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fanfiction and is not intended to infringe upon the rights of MGM, Trilogy, or the Mirish Corportaion. The song is "Sara" by Starship. I don't own it either.  
**Notes:** This is the second story in the M7Rocks! A/U.  
**Thanks: **Thanks to Chris, Cindy, and Deb for the encouragement. This is an open A/U.  
**Feedback:** Please. Do let me know you read it.

Chris walked up to the store and stood on the sidewalk for several minutes. He pulled a pack of Marlboro's from his pocket and removed one, placing it between his lips before returning the pack to his pocket. Then he lit the cigarette and took several long drags from it. All this he did while looking at the store.

It was not a store which garnered casual customers. It was a store which catered to a very specific clientele. And it had been years since Chris had come. But he wasn't surprised it was still in business. It had been around forever.

Watson's Music wasn't much to look at on the outside. The windows were filthy from years of unwash. The paint was falling off the bricks. The sidewalk was nicked and grass sprouted up between the cracks. But people didn't come here to see the building. Walt maintained the best selection of instruments anywhere around. And he also made them affordable. What he didn´t' spend on building repairs, he passed on to the customer.

Chris took one last pull off the cigarette, then dropped it to the ground and crushed it. Making a decision, he nodded to himself once, then entered the store. With a slight look, he acknowledged Walt. Walt smiled his way, then moved to join him.

"Got a beauty you might like," Walt said to Chris as if it had only been yesterday since the last time Chris visited. Then he held up a six-string guitar, highly polished with a black lacquer finish. "Just your size."

Chris almost smiled as he took the guitar. Walt pointed to the amplifiers and handed Chris a silver pick.

Over by the amp, another man was looking at a neutrally finished guitar. Their eyes met. The other man raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of the black beauty Chris held. Chris nodded. The man smiled a half-smile and plugged into the amp. Without actually talking about it, they both began to play Styx's 'Too Much Time on My Hands.' Chris automatically took the lead part and the other man followed him.

A cymbal crash heralded the introduction of a third player's in the impromptu duet. Chris and the other man continued to play. When the song finished, both men looked at the drummer, who looked all of seventeen.

"Sorry guys, sounded great and…." he started.

"Don't worry about it, kid," the other man said before looking at Chris. "Name's Vin Tanner."

"Chris Larabee."

Both men looked to the drummer.

"My name's JD. JD Dunne."

Walt came up. "You boys sound good together. Real good. Consider forming up?"

JD looked enthusiastic. Vin nodded but shrugged. Chris didn't respond.

"Because if you are, got a job that might interest you. It's tonight, and the pay is $350."

"Might need a few more folks," Vin said.

"I know a good bass man, if his guitar isn't in hock," Chris said.

"Couldn't help overhearin'," a black man said, coming over to them. "You're forming up a band. I play sax."

"Wouldn't mind hearin' you play," Chris said.

The man picked up a sax and played. The others soon joined him. When they finished, the man smiled. "Didn't introduce myself. Nate Jackson."

"That's four, maybe five. Figure we can get seven men for this," Chris said.

"I know a man plays a pretty wicked board," Nate said.

"All we need is a singer now," Vin said.

Walt smiled and produced a card, which he handed to Chris. "He's good. A bit temperamental, of course, but real good. Might give him a call."

Chris nodded, and the foursome left after making their purchases.

A few hours later, the four men waited at Denny's for the other prospective members to join them.

Buck Wilmington was the first to arrive. He was boisterous and loud. Chris was almost embarrassed as the man flirted his way to the back of the restaurant. Amazingly, no one slapped him.

Josiah Sanchez came in next. His quiet manner was a stark contrast to his large frame. He was skeptical and left almost immediately. Nathan looked at the others after Josiah left. "He'll be back. He just hasn't decided to do this yet. But he will."

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Josiah returned and ordered a cup of coffee. He looked at everyone and nodded.

"What changed your mind, Chris asked.

"'The Crow', actually," Josiah stated without further elaboration.

The others looked at him for a moment, waiting for an explanation, but none came. Josiah serenely sipped his coffee.

"I guess our singer is a no-show," Vin said.

"Why would you want a temperamental singer, anyway?" Nathan asked.

Chris smirked. "Gives the group some character."

At that moment, and extremely well-dressed man walked up to the table. His hair was immaculately groomed, and his hands were well-manicured. He looked with a measure of disdain at everyone seated. "I don't suppose that one of you is a 'Mr. Larabee'," he said with a southern accent.

"That would be me. And you must be Ezra Standish."

Ezra nodded. His gaze flicked over to Nathan. Nathan glared at him.

"Thought you weren't going to join us," Chris said.

Ezra shrugged and then took a chair from a nearby table. He sat down and joined the group.

Chris relayed what little details he knew of the gig. He was very clear on one issue: this was a one-time deal.

After their impromptu meeting, and without a chance to practice together even once, the men got in their respective vehicles and drove straight to the party. Upon arrival, JD began to set up the drums and Buck immediately moved to help him. Josiah and Nate walked together with their instruments. Chris and Vin were next in line.

Ezra was alone, but surprised everyone when he brought out a trombone case.

"I thought you were a singer," Chris said with a glare. It was too late to get a singer, and he felt he'd been misled.

"I am," Ezra replied evenly. "I also play trombone." With that, Ezra slammed the door to his car and moved around to the driver's side.

Chris took his arm. "You wouldn't be thinkin' about leavin' now, would you?"

Ezra met his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it." He took the sunglasses off of the visor and put them on. "This is an outdoor party it would appear."

Chris narrowed his eyes and nodded once. Ezra walked towards the rest of the group. Chris and Vin followed him.

After a several minutes, the septet was nearly ready.

A man approached them. "Karl Thomas. Thanks for being available on such short notice."

Chris nodded, the rest of the group continued their preparation.

Karl continued, "I had another group, but they cancelled on me. Almost had to resort to using a stereo. What type of music do you play?"

"We're all requests tonight. If we know it, we'll play it."

Karl nodded. "Sounds great. I'll ask the guests to write down their requests. Should they give them to you?"

Chris shook his head. "Give them to him." He pointed at Ezra.

"All right. Thanks." Karl walked off, and Chris went to the others and told them that requests would be handed to Ezra.

The first hour was uneventful. The septet played well together, and seemed to have a great deal of fun.

Ezra looked at the list of requests and turned to Josiah. Just as he had done with every other song, he told the larger man the song and which key. Josiah would begin to play. Ezra would start to sing, the others would join in.

_Go now, don't look back, we've drawn the line  
Move on, it's no good to go back in time  
I'll never find another girl like you, for happy endings it takes two  
We're fire and ice, the dream won't come true  
Sara, Sara, storms are brewin' in your eyes  
Sara, Sara, no time is a good time for goodbyes  
Danger in the game when the stakes are high  
Branded, my heart was branded while my senses stood by  
I'll never find another girl like you, for happy endings it takes two  
We're fire and ice, the dream won't come true  
Sara, Sara, storms are brewin' in your eyes  
Sara, Sara, no time is a good time, oh  
Sara, Sara, storms are brewin' in your eyes  
Sara, Sara, no time is a good time for goodbyes  
('Cos Sara) Loved me like no one has ever loved me before  
(And Sara) Hurt me, no one could ever hurt me more  
(And Sara) Sara, nobody loved me anymore  
I'll never find another girl like you  
We're fire and ice, the dream won't come true  
Sara, Sara, no time is a good time, oh  
Sara, Sara, storms are brewin' in your eyes  
Sara, Sara, no time is a good time, no  
Ooh Sara, why did it, why did it, why did it all fall apart..._

Throughout the song, Chris had played almost mechanically…as if he was not really there. The second the song finished, he went over to Ezra.

"Don't you ever start us on that song again. Are we clear?" he hissed.

Ezra visibly blanched, having no idea what set him off.

"We're taking a break," Chris told the crowd. Then he left the stage and moved straight to the bar.

"What just happened here?" Ezra remarked. Everyone but Buck looked just as confused.

"His wife's name was Sara," Buck said.

"What happened to her?" JD asked.

"She died in a car accident. On the way to one of our gigs. Didn't think Chris would ever get over it enough to play again," Buck said. "She was a beautiful woman."

The group was silent.

"I didn't know," Ezra said.

Buck smiled. "I know Ez. Chris will too, eventually."


End file.
